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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27091819">Sunlight in the Witching Hour</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyLectio/pseuds/LuckyLectio'>LuckyLectio</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Fae &amp; Fairies, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Halloween, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Prompto Argentum is a Ray of Sunshine, Vampires, Werewolves, Witch AU, Witches, oh my!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-09 03:15:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,419</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27091819</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyLectio/pseuds/LuckyLectio</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When he opens the door, the wards sing.</p>
<p>Noctis stands, introductions forgotten, as the human embodiment of sunshine and summer days smiles at him from the threshold.</p>
<p>His aura is blindingly bright, exuberant energy and color. The vibrant personality of someone who lives life with love and laughter. Noctis feels the urge to squint.</p>
<p>“Hey! You must be Noctis!” He sticks a hand out, and Noctis takes it automatically. It’s warm. “I’m Prompto! It’s nice to meet you.”</p>
<p>-Or-</p>
<p>Noctis is one of the most powerful witches this side of Lucis, but somehow finds himself completely at the mercy of a little spell called love.</p>
<p>Some other certain supernaturals may have something to say about that.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gladiolus Amicitia &amp; Prompto Argentum, Prompto Argentum &amp; Ignis Scientia, Prompto Argentum &amp; Noctis Lucis Caelum, Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>92</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>268</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Sunrise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/21242564">wake up and smell the charms</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamtowns/pseuds/dreamtowns">dreamtowns</a>.
        </li>

    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When he opens the door, the wards<em> sing</em>.</p>
<p>Noctis stands, introductions forgotten, as the human embodiment of sunshine and summer days smiles at him from the threshold.</p>
<p>His aura is blindingly bright, exuberant energy and color. The vibrant personality of someone who lives life with love and laughter. Noctis feels the urge to squint.</p>
<p>“Hey! You must be Noctis!” He sticks a hand out, and Noctis takes it automatically. It’s warm. “I’m Prompto! It’s nice to meet you.”</p>
<p>“Nice to. Uh. Meet you.” He realizes he’s staring, that the handshake’s gone on too long. All those etiquette lessons gone to waste. But Prompto doesn’t seem to notice, or he’s too nice to say anything.</p>
<p>Noctis drops his hand (the sun-warmed, gentle hand, that wraps perfectly into his), and makes a fumbled gesture inviting the human inside.</p>
<p>“Wow! The pictures don’t do it justice!” Prompto was saying, and Noctis couldn’t help but think the same about Prompto.</p>
<p>He was all smiles and happy energy, his pale face speckled with freckles as if the sun itself had kissed them there. Golden locks fell in styled layers, framing brilliant blue-violet eyes, eyes the deep twilit color of the witching hour, eyes that drew him in with the promise of safety and secrets alike.</p>
<p>Those eyes were dancing around the apartment, followed by the light steps of feet on the ward-warmed floors. He was barefoot, Noctis realized, finally tearing his eyes away from the human’s freckled face. </p>
<p>He had freckles on his feet, too.</p>
<p>“You in there, bud?” Noctis jolts as a hand waves a couple times in front of his face.</p>
<p>“Uh.” He blinks rapidly. The sunshine is still behind his eyelids, somehow. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry. What were you saying?” Gods, he could almost hear his tutors cursing him. Politely, of course. </p>
<p>Prompto’s frowning, now. Something in Noctis’ stomach twists for having caused it. </p>
<p>“Look, if I. If I messed this up or something,” he runs a nervous hand through those golden layers, looking away, shifting on his freckled feet. The light around him seems to dim a little. “I’ll go, if you’re not feeling this, I mean. Nobody wants stuck with a shitty roommate.”</p>
<p>“No!” He says, louder than he meant to. Prompto jumps a little. “Uh, I mean. No, c’mon in.” He walks past him into the living room, gesturing him to follow.</p>
<p>Prompto worries at his bottom lip, then seems to nod to himself before turning to follow him back into the apartment. A soft smile works its back into place, appearing as if it’d never vanished in the first place. Noctis tries not to trip.</p>
<p>“You’re earlier than I thought you’d be,” Noctis manages, as if that’s any reason for being so weird. But Prompto launches into a surprisingly lengthy explanation as to why, somehow involving an old lady, a limited edition cactuar statue, and “the cutest dogs in existence”. All the while, Noctis watches as the wards in the room work their way over Prompto’s skin, checking for injuries. </p>
<p>He knows Ignis will be upset later, since he wanted to be here to meet Prompto in person beforehand, but he pushes the roommate contract into Prompto’s hands before he can change his mind. There’s nothing magical about the contract, just a normal human formality, but if it kept Prompto in his life a little longer, that’s all he cared about. Just the thought of this sunshine leaving made his chest ache.</p>
<p>Prompto scrawls a messy signature, still in the middle of his tale, and gestures wildly with the pen to punctuate what Noctis assumes is the climax of the story. He honestly got lost a while ago, but didn’t want to interrupt what was quickly becoming his favorite sound in the world.</p>
<p>Noctis presses the spare key (<em> Prompto’s </em> key) into those sun-warmed hands. He gives him the grand tour (which unfortunately doesn’t take as long as he’d like), and Prompto drops his backpack off in what’s now his room. </p>
<p>With that, he leaves the apartment with a skip in his step, promising to return in a few hours with the rest of his things.</p>
<p>The door clicks shut. The apartment feels oddly hollow.</p>
<p>In all of twenty minutes, Prompto arrived, stole his heart, and left.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Introductions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Noctis is sitting at the kitchen counter, still staring longingly at the door when Ignis arrives not even ten minutes later.</p><p>“Noct, what-” Ignis pauses at the scent. “He was already here?” </p><p>He doesn’t need a confirmation, but Noctis nods anyway. Ignis is already across the room, checking him over for injuries.</p><p>“I’m<em> fine</em>, Ignis. He’s fine, too. Relax.”</p><p>Ignis looks anything but relaxed, his green eyes flashing bright to glare with sharpened vision at the already signed roommate agreement. </p><p>“I’ll see that for myself.”</p><p>Gladio arrives a bit later to find Ignis chopping harshly through a growing pile of vegetables. Noctis is both glaring in disgust at the offending produce and happy to see it so thoroughly destroyed. </p><p>Gladio takes one whiff of the air and knows what the problem is. He folds his arms across his broad chest and stares at his charge.</p><p>“So when we meetin’ the fresh meat?” </p><p>Noct groans. “Not you, too.”</p><p>“You were supposed to wait, Noctis.” Ignis berates, <em> again </em>. He doesn’t pause in his food preparations at all, smoothly moving the chopped ingredients into an already greased pan. “You know very well the security issue this could present.”</p><p>“The ‘Guard already did, like, four background checks on the guy, and tailed him for two weeks! We already know he’s just a normal human!” Noctis throws his hands up in frustration, accidentally launching the pen he’d been holding, the one Prompto had used, into the air. He fumbles to catch it, misses, and stops it with a quick spell before it can clatter to the floor.</p><p>“The king--”</p><p>“My <em> dad </em> wouldn't have allowed it if there was any sort of risk.” He twirls the pen through his fingers.</p><p>Gladio grunts. “Doesn’t matter. If there’s a risk, we’ll remove it.” Ignis dips his head in curt agreement.</p><p>Noctis feels a spike of anger at the mere thought of anything hurting Prompto, anything removing that spot of sunshine from his life. </p><p>“No,” he grits through his teeth.</p><p>“Noctis--” Ignis starts, but Noctis cuts him off.</p><p>“You’ll understand when you meet him.”</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>The wards start to sing their welcome before Prompto even reaches the door. Inside the apartment, all three occupants turn their attention to the presence approaching. It’s warm, comforting, kind. Noctis feels his muscles relax, the tension from the last few hours easing off his shoulders. </p><p>The door, excited, unlocks for him before he could even find his key. After a moment, Prompto steps inside.</p><p>“Dude, the lock work okay? The door just kinda swung open-- oh, hey.” Prompto stops, spotting Ignis. The vampire had frozen in place, blinking rapidly into the sunshine aura, but composed himself in the next breath.</p><p>“Good afternoon, you must be Prompto,” he steps forward to shake his hand politely, taking the opportunity to scent him discreetly. Noctis bristles at the invasive action, all the while his wards are brushing over Prompto’s skin. He refuses to admit that that’s <em> just </em> as invasive. But Prompto’s smiling, and he feels his irritation fade away.</p><p>“Please allow me to introduce myself,” Ignis continues. Prompto looks a little baffled by the fancy introduction. “My name is Ignis Scientia, I am a good friend of Noctis’.”</p><p>“Err, nice to meet you! You guessed it, I’m Prompto!” He peeks past Ignis. “Whoa! Who’s the mountain in the back?”</p><p>Said mountain steps around Noctis, letting his full height and muscles block the rest of the room from view. He grins, all teeth, and grips Prompto’s hand a little tighter than he probably should. </p><p>“Name’s Gladio.”</p><p>“Holy shit,” Prompto squeaks out, and Gladio is satisfied his intimidation worked for all of three seconds until, “Your tattoo is amazing! Who’s the artist? Did you get it done here in Insomnia? I know this great artist over in Lestallum, it’s a bit far to travel, but I follow her on Mooglegram and--” </p><p>Gladio stares, baffled, as Prompto continues his essay on the mediums used by obscure tattoo artists he’s never heard of. He doesn’t even seem to realize that Gladio’s still gripping his hand. He finally gives up on trying to scare the kid, dropping the hand and watching as it immediately joins the other in making excited gestures.</p><p>Noctis snorts in amusement. “Looks like you’re losing your touch.” Gladio smacks him on the shoulder.</p><p>They somehow steer the very distracted Prompto to sit in the living room. Gladio’s a little miffed for a while, but joins in on Prompto’s conversation easily enough. They get into a long discussion about the history and culture of tattooing, even Ignis joins in with the more “antique” inking methods. It’s all a little lost on Noctis, but Prompto’s here, and he’s happy, and Ignis and Gladio seem less likely to kick him out with every passing moment.</p><p>This whole arrangement; getting an apartment in the city, getting a normal human roommate, was all meant to give him a taste of a mundane life and to bring him closer to the people he was to one day rule and protect.</p><p>With Prompto here, he felt that goal had been accomplished, and maybe something more.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Roommates</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Being roommates with Prompto is a new sort of challenge. Not that he’s a bad roommate in any sense of the word; on the contrary, Prompto seems to make his presence as least offensive as possible. Sure, he listens to music at odd hours and sings in the shower and leaves tea cups everywhere; but he also cleans up after himself in the kitchen, invites Noctis to watch terrible D-rated horror films at 3am, and he will talk with Noct about anything and everything. </p>
<p>This sense of mundane normalcy is not something Noctis, Ignis or Gladio are really used to. Physically, they all are, or were, partially human at some point. But Ignis’ sense of humor comes from centuries old puns, and Gladio has to shave four times a day and measures everything in how much he can bench press, so they don’t really count towards any real opinion on the matter. </p>
<p>Noctis, who’s used to spells dancing everywhere and ancient tomes and cauldrons, suddenly finds himself not able to cast things on the regular. He can’t just vanish his trash away into the void, or summon his grimoires, or call on Carbuncle for magical aid. If he wants something from the kitchen and Prompto’s around, he has to physically get up to get it. If he wants to cast a stronger spell, he has to ensure his room is locked and several barriers in place before doing so. And, most tragically, he can’t just cuddle with Carbuncle whenever he wants to. He finds this human, manual, way of doing things, in short,<em> exhausting</em>. His father just chuckles at him whenever he complains.</p>
<p>There are Glamours in place, of course. Most magic, including physical attributes of the supernatural, is blanketed by Glamour to disguise the truth from human eyes. It’s not foolproof however, especially for blocking higher forms of magic. Magic in which Noctis is very well versed.</p>
<p>So he has to be careful.</p>
<p>Or he would, if Prompto’s own oblivious nature wasn’t better than any of the strongest Glamours.</p>
<p>He never notices how objects he’s misplaced in the apartment will suddenly appear nearby if he’s looking for them, never questions any of the bizarre concoctions Noctis brews on the stove, never bats an eye at any of the strange people that drop by at odd hours. </p>
<p>On more than one occasion, Prompto’s helped several of his more <em> magically-inclined </em> neighbors without realizing. How he misses that the bags he’s helping to carry are moving, or that the “dogs” he’s walking have far too many legs, or that the garden he helped plant was carnivorous, even when it took a snap at him, is a mystery to Noctis and many, many others.</p>
<p>He’s endeared himself to the whole apartment complex by now, human and supernatural alike. Several Fae and a few shapeshifters have already threatened to adopt him.</p>
<p>So when he shows up with a split lip, still determined to smile through it, Noctis barely talks them down from calling a full on Hunt.</p>
<p>He may or may not have let Gladio and Ignis slip past him, though.</p>
<p>Now, he’s standing in front of Prompto as he sits on the bathroom counter, trying to figure out how to imbue a bandaid with healing properties without the human noticing. It was frustrating that he couldn’t just <em> heal </em> his lip for him. It could be gone with a quick two-second spell, but no. <em> Bandaids. </em>He rips through the flimsy paper wrapper, cursing as he accidentally drops it in the sink.</p>
<p>“Dude, relax. Murderous intent isn’t a good look for you.” Prompto pokes him lightly on the forehead where a furious crease had formed on his brow.</p>
<p>“Prom, you were <em> assaulted</em>.”</p>
<p>He just shrugs. “Could happen to anyone, yeah? I’m not gonna let some rando ruin my day.”</p>
<p>And there’s the problem. He’s too damn nice for his own good.</p>
<p>It’s a good thing, then, that Prompto has friends with no such limitations.</p>
<p>Prompto shifted, suddenly serious. The wards, already tense with Noctis’ anger, paused as the witch found himself enraptured by the rare sullen expression.</p>
<p>Prompto spoke stories with his smiles; a half-quirked smirk for when he feeling particularly sarcastic (or for when he kicks Noct’s ass in a video game), a tense smile for when he’s (poorly) hiding something, a smile that crinkles his whole face for when he finds something genuinely amusing, or the pursed smile he wears when he’s particularly puzzled or deep in thought... A soft, warm smile for when he thinks Noctis isn’t looking.</p>
<p>It’s ironic then, when he doesn’t smile, that others listen the most to what he has to say.</p>
<p>He stares through Noctis, a resigned sigh brushing past his busted lip. “Nothing about that fight was going to change things for the better. Trying to talk it out doesn’t work so well on drunks, and punching that guy back wasn’t an option. He wasn’t just going to take a hit and say “welp, guess it’s time to turn my life around!”. It just would have made it worse.”</p>
<p><em> Of course </em> he’d be thinking more about the guy who decked him than himself.</p>
<p>“I don’t care about <em> him</em>,” Noctis spat, without thinking. “I care about <em> you! </em>”</p>
<p>He freezes.</p>
<p><em> Shit, </em> he screams internally, face lighting up in a blush when it hits him what he just said. </p>
<p>Prompto’s eyebrows have jumped to his hairline. “O-oh…”, seeming for once to be at a loss for words.</p>
<p>They’ve only known each other for a <em> month </em> , way to make it awkward, <em> shit shit shit </em>. Noctis can feel the tips of his ears burning, and suddenly becomes far more interested in fiddling with the box of bandaids he’s accidentally crushed in his fist. He’s two seconds from warping away, Glamour be damned, just to escape. </p>
<p>Then gentle, sun-warmed fingers brush his bangs away. He looks up, only to freeze a second time, caught by the sunshine lighting the whole room. From it, Prompto’s grin is near blinding in his happiness. He feels himself smiling back.</p>
<p>“Gotta say, that’s a much better look.”</p>
<p>Noctis just forgets the whole “thinking” thing, standing there in blatant shock. Prompto chuckles, hopping off the counter and tugging at Noctis’ hand.</p>
<p>“C’mon. You don’t treat a split lip with bandaids anyway.”</p>
<p>By the time Noctis rediscovers how to think, Prompto’s popped a movie in, something about sentient geese, and is sitting close enough their shoulders press together. He’s got a running commentary going about how amazing the feathers look and “holy shit those explosions are so real,” and Noctis just hums when he thinks he’s supposed to because he has no idea what’s going on in real life, let alone this movie.</p>
<p>He looks over to Prompto, illuminated in the cool glow of the TV, eyes bright with humor and joviality lighting his face. Noctis presses a little closer.</p>
<p>Yeah, he could get used to this.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*Noctis.EXE has stopped responding.*</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Protective</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Dude, I don’t want anything from your side of the kitchen.”</p><p>Noctis pouts. “My cooking isn't <em> that </em> bad.” Okay, that wasn’t exactly true; his potions were fine, but for some reason whenever actual food ingredients were involved, he became the world's most efficient creator of charcoal.</p><p>Prompto stares at him with the most deadpan, unimpressed look. He turns to Ignis.</p><p>“Is there a fire extinguisher in here?”</p><p>“Hey!”</p><p>“Lower left cupboard,” Ignis answers. Noctis shoots him a betrayed look, which Ignis dutifully ignores. </p><p>Noctis’ “soup,” a thick, greenish antidote potion, chooses that exact moment to belch out a cloud of noxious smoke, and Noctis scrambles to cover the pot. A slimy trail of it escapes out the top, dribbling down the side and hissing loudly as it hits the burner. The whole stove rattles in protest.</p><p>Prompto starts cackling, tipping dangerously from where he’s perched himself cross-legged on the barstool. Ignis doesn’t react other than to absently reach out to keep Prompto from falling.</p><p>Noctis sighs, defeated.</p><p>“Who wants pizza?” He wearily suggests.</p><p>Ignis finally looks up from his papers at that, the word “pizza” being a personal offense. He looks ready to suggest some horrible healthy alternative. Prompto finally stops wheezing at Noctis’ expense, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye and gaze turning thoughtful. Noctis swears his eyes actually sparkle when he comes to a decision.</p><p>“We should go out!” He cheers.</p><p>Noctis, who had his face shoved in a cupboard to look for a new pan, jerks up, whacking his head on the underside of the counter. He bites off a myriad of colorful curses as several cups and the pan he was looking for tumble out, landing on his foot and causing a cacophony of noise.</p><p>“W-What?” he stutters, clutching the back of his head.</p><p>“Let’s go out! A night on the town, in the city that never sleeps!” He gestures with arms flung wide, Ignis casually ducking out of the way. Prompto hops off the barstool, almost tripping as he pops over to Noctis and grasps his hand. “C’mon, it’ll be fun! Think of the photos!”</p><p>Noctis is decidedly not thinking of the photos, caught by how close Prompto is and the sheer amount of sunshine radiating out of the blonde's expression. He definitely isn’t trying to count his freckles. Most certainly not trying to memorize the feeling of Prompto’s palm in his.</p><p>“I -- Er, sure,” Noctis gives, way too easily. As if there was any other answer when he looks at him like <em> that</em>.</p><p>“Sweet!”</p><p>Prompto dashes off to grab his jacket and camera, bare feet padding softly down the hall, leaving Noctis clutching his shirtfront as if his heart might physically try to make a break for it to chase after him.</p><p>“I swear he does that on purpose,” Noctis mumbles in mock irritation, the fondness in his voice betraying him.</p><p>Ignis just hums, sipping at his Ebony.</p><p>“The potion is on fire.”</p><p>“Shit!”</p><p> </p><p>----</p><p> </p><p>Prompto does try to invite Ignis along out of sheer politeness, but Ignis’ self-preservation declines for him.</p><p>“Thank you for the offer, Prompto, however I simply must complete this report,” he manages to say, instead of the clear “<em>If I go with you like a third wheel, Noctis will literally stab me later</em>.” Not that it would kill him, of course, but he quite liked his current suit. Blood could be so difficult to remove from fabrics.</p><p>So the two of them left together, Prompto eagerly urging Noctis along and chattering about all the cool places that were open this time of night. A supposedly haunted Crow’s Nest, an arcade that has a “total days spent gaming without calling an ambulance” record chart, several parks and cityscapes with plenty of photo opportunities... Noctis honestly doesn’t care where they go so long as Prompto’s with him.</p><p>But the Witch-King-to-be couldn’t just wander the city without protection, even though only a few spare fools would dare to try anything. He’s more than capable of defending himself and Prompto. Regardless, there on the edge of his senses, his bodyguard trails behind them. </p><p>He sighs.</p><p>Dammit Gladio.</p><p>“Is that a ‘no’ to the spooky Crow’s Nest?”</p><p>What? Oh right, food. “Nah, let’s go.” He was pretty hungry. And besides, this way he could taunt Gladio by eating his favorite burger right in front of him.</p><p>“Sweet! I’ve always wanted to be haunted by a french fry.”</p><p>The Crow’s Nest wasn’t, in fact, haunted. But it did have flickering lights and ancient electrical wiring, so the threat of the place bursting into flames at any moment did make it a little foreboding.</p><p>They sit at the cleanest booth they can find and order whatever they think would make Ignis squirm the most. Prompto makes sure to take at least twenty pictures of his plate at different angles and with various filters before even touching his food, just to be able to show Ignis later and say that at least their arteries would be coated in <em> artistic </em> grease.</p><p>Noctis removes anything remotely healthy off his burger and gives it to Prompto. He coats the thing in ketchup and soy sauce, already hearing Gladio’s distressed moans of “<em>you’re ruining it, Noct. Fucking ruining it.”  </em>He angles himself so he knows Gladio can see and takes a big bite, savoring the mess. He hears his phone start buzzing with messages, and doesn’t need to look to know he’s being cussed out.</p><p>“What’s got you smiling?”</p><p>“Nothing,” Noctis says, a little too quickly. Then, softer, “this.”</p><p>Prompto quirks an eyebrow at him. “The food?”</p><p>“<em>No. </em> Well, yes. But I meant--” and he couldn’t exactly say he’d been taunting a werewolf a block away, “I meant. Eating the food. With-- with you.” Each word came out more of a mumbled mess than the last, but Prompto must’ve heard it, ‘cause his ears light up pink.</p><p>“O-oh. Yeah, huh. I guess we don’t go out that often, or ever really, now that I think about it. I mean we’re together all the time at the apartment, but there’s so many other cool places we could hang, ya know? I don’t like, know the area, like, super well yet, but--” </p><p>He listens to Prompto’s rambling and wonders, not for the first time, if this is a date. He’s not sure if Prompto actually meant it like a date, or just like hanging out, but in his love-addled brain he really, really wants it to be a date. Noctis just prays that he’s not making it awkward.</p><p>The best thing is, with Prompto it <em> doesn’t matter </em> if he’s awkward. With Prompto, he can just <em> be. </em>That, he thinks, is what he likes the most about him.</p><p>“--and that’s why Mechabo would totally beat Cactuarion in a fight.”</p><p><em> What happened to this conversation. </em> </p><p>“But what about Moogron?” Noctis counters. He should probably be worried that he’s already thought about this.</p><p>Prompto pauses. “Shit, you’re right,” and launches into another in depth analysis comparing the monsters, scribbling frantic notes on a napkin and mapping out a greasy replica of Insomnia on the table with his french fries for them to destroy. Moogron (a sad pickle slice) is clearly winning.</p><p>Noctis isn’t sure how this conversation came to be, but falls back into it with ease. And that’s what their relationship is, he realizes. It’s easy. Natural. Being with Prompto came to him as easy as spellcraft, as natural as breathing. He didn’t have to force a conversation, or keep his cryptid nerd-self hidden like he did with the snobs back at the Citadel. </p><p>Not for the first time since Prompto showed up in his life, did Noctis find it so easy to just <em> be</em>. Noctis wasn’t naturally a talkative person, Ignis often compared getting him fully invested in discussing anything not of his interests like pulling teeth. Or fangs, rather.</p><p>The point is, Noctis has always had a small social circle. People he could actually open up to and be himself with. Anyone outside of those select few were usually part of Insomina’s upper crust. Nobles, ambassadors, military, and the like. And they always, <em> always</em>, had an agenda. The people he trusts fully are few and far between, and even they took years to get that far. Ignis called earning his trust “accomplished patience in the face of adversity.” Gladio called it “Noctis being a dick.”</p><p>So even if their relationship, friendship, whatever-this-is, didn’t go any further, he was just happy to be able to know Prompto at all. Prompto just accepted him as he was from the very beginning.</p><p>Somewhere in the back of his mind though, he worries at how Prompto would react if he knew the truth. Noctis is a witch, magic courses through his veins as quick as blood. If Prompto knew half the supernatural shit that went on around him regularly… </p><p>...Would he leave? </p><p>His stomach twists painfully, and he buries the thought deep, deep down. He forces himself back into the present, the smile on his face feeling strained.</p><p>Moogron doesn’t get to completely destroy Fry-omnia before an exhausted looking waitress comes by to ask them to please, please stop, like they’re acting like children or something. Rude.</p><p>They head out shortly after that, Prompto having bashfully cleaned up the mess with way too many napkins, and make for the arcade. They reach it without too much difficulty, though he can still feel Gladio glowering at him from a distance.</p><p>He’s been to this one before, immediately relaxing into the pulsing neon lights and the sounds of squeaky 8-bit soundtracks. </p><p>It’s also, unfortunately, <em> packed </em> with supernaturals. Noctis feels their eyes turn his way barely two steps in the door, and finds himself tensing all over again. He looks up to meet their stares, his own crystalline blue aura crackling a clear <em> back off </em> to anyone too curious. Some turn away, some don’t. He’s mostly used to the attention and tries to ignore it.</p><p>That is, until he sees the eyes aren’t just on him.</p><p>Prompto, wonderful cheerful <em> oblivious </em> Prompto, is walking straight into a crowd of people that are far too curious for anything good. Vaguely, he can hear a suspiciously Ignis-like voice nagging at him that he should have expected this. Anyone seen with the upcoming Witch-King was bound to get attention, especially a human. Judging by some of the outright <em> hungry </em> looks, he should have expected it far, far sooner.</p><p>Noctis immediately goes on the defensive, muttering protective spells under his breath with the  hopes that the music is too horrible for Prompto to hear over. The magic charges the air with flickers of blue anger, almost audibly crackling. It tints the air a deep navy, and singes the atmosphere with the taste of tart raspberries. The magic hovers, the message clear: <em> Try anything and face the consequences.  </em></p><p>The arcade suddenly gets far more empty after that. The arcade owner, a grumpy old sylph, looks ready to sue him for causing his sudden lack of patronage. </p><p>“Hey, check it out! The newest Justice Monsters machines just opened up!” Prompto cheers, dragging him over to the newest arcade cabinets and simultaneously yanking him out of the tense trance he’d found himself locked in. </p><p>They pass by the record boards, and Noctis scoffs. “Only sixteen consecutive days spent gaming?”</p><p>“Amateurs.”</p><p>Noctis lets his magic linger as they work their way through the games. He senses Gladio take up a closer post, tucked away in a discreet corner. He sends him a silent <em> thank you </em> look while Prompto’s busy dying to pixelated zombies. </p><p>He learns pretty quickly that you do not play against Prompto in any first person shooters if you want your dignity intact. Noctis, on the other hand, wipes the board with most any of the retro cabinets.</p><p>“I’ve never even seen this level,” Prompto gapes, taking about thirty pictures in under a minute.</p><p>“Used to have one of the top scores, few months back,” Noctis replies. He can’t help but be distracted at how Prompto’s silhouette is illuminated by the vibrant neon lights, that his eyes shine with excitement in the glow of the screen, or how his own golden aura threatens to outshine the brightest LEDs. He ends up biting the dust shortly after. He can’t make himself feel too bummed about it as Prompto slings an arm over his shoulders, exclaiming about the score. Noctis subtly leans into the warmth.</p><p>They end up staying far longer than he realized… The ever growing mountain of barely restrained annoyance that was Gladio seated nearby told him the man was <em> this </em> close to throwing them out himself. On their way out though, Prompto catches his elbow and leads him over to one of the claw machines. It’s packed with toys, action figures (cause there’s a difference, dammit), knick-knacks and bright baubles. </p><p>Prompto wins Noctis a fluffy Carbuncle plush on his first try. He holds it out to him lifted to the heavens, Lion King style, and Noctis hereby swears it in as a family heirloom. Prompto tucks it in the hood of Noctis’ jacket to ride around in (much like the real Carbuncle likes to do).</p><p>Noctis takes about seven attempts more, but wins Prompto a cute little carved chocobo keychain. You’d think the thing was made of Mythril, not cheap wood, the way Prompto cradles it in both hands. His face splits in a blinding smile, and there’s a star-like shine to his eyes.</p><p>“I’ll cherish it forever,” he declares. Then, because Noctis’ heart was already going to burst anyway, Prompto throws his arms around him in a hug. “Thanks, Noct!” Noctis has to remind himself how to breathe. Prompto is hugging him, <em> holy shit, </em> this is the best day of his <em> life. </em></p><p>They leave the arcade soon afterwards, walking the cool autumn streets with no destination in mind. The stars glimmered softly through the veil of the Wall. He turns to Prompto to ask where he’d like to go next, when he notices Prompto’s no longer smiling… He’s staring up at the night sky, eyes distant, his golden aura dimmed to a hush.</p><p>Noctis frowns. “What’s wro--”</p><p>And the air  <em> s h a t t e r s </em></p><p>His wards, his magic, scream at him <em> not safe not safe not safe…! </em></p><p>Noctis doesn’t think, he just grabs Prompto’s hand, yanking him close and letting his magic surge and crackle around them in a field of pure defensive force. He scans the area, <em> not here, where?  </em>Was the Wall attacked? <em> No… closer. </em> The apartment…?</p><p>“Uh, N-Noct?”</p><p>Noctis startles, looking down to where he has Prompto pinned to his chest in a tight embrace. Prompto’s face is lit up in a blush so red it looks ready to set fire to his jacket. Those deep violet eyes practically spinning in confusion.</p><p>“Uh,” he replies, intelligently, his own face starting to burn just as bright. He’s saved from further explanations by Gladio, <em> thank the Astrals</em>, approaching them from where he’d been lurking.</p><p>“Oi! Am I interrupting something?” Gladio says, smirking. His voice is rough, teasing, but Noctis can hear the stilted edge to it. Noctis (reluctantly) releases Prompto from his grip, but refuses to step any further away. Gladio takes up a position behind them, shielding their blind spot.</p><p>“H-hey Gladio!” Prompto squeaks, trying desperately to get his face back to a normal color. “Funny meeting you here! Felt like having a midnight stroll?”</p><p>“Hah, I wish,” Gladio replies, trying to keep the conversation light. At the same time, Noctis’ phone rings.</p><p>He answers immediately, not bothering to look at the caller ID. </p><p>It’s Ignis. “Highness,” he starts, and the use of his title already tells him the situation’s bad, “please return to the apartment at once. There’s a situation that requires your attention.” Noctis’ stomach drops.</p><p>He looks over to Prompto, who’s halfheartedly chatting small talk with Gladio while shooting him worried looks. </p><p>He sighs. What a way to end their date.</p><p>“We’re on our way.”</p><p> </p><p>----</p><p> </p><p>Later that night, when Prompto’s soft snores roll from beyond his bedroom door, Noctis listens in silent rage as Ignis reports. The apartment complex had been attacked, but Noctis wards had done their job well. The only damage done was a non-lethal wound through Ignis’ stomach that he received during capture of the culprit, easily healed away by the crack of an elixir. Despite Ignis’ best efforts, his favorite pinstripe suit did not survive.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Seriously is there a good way to get bloodstains out of cashmere? Asking for a friend.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Stasis</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He may have gone a bit overboard with the charms. And extra wards. And barriers. And sentient garden statues with suspiciously sharp shovels. The multitude of layered defenses he’s placed around the area is so thick Noctis swears it muffles the air surrounding the whole city block. A few more layers and it might rival the Wall. </p><p>After the apartment had been attacked the night before, the thought of Prompto being caught in such a situation and left completely undefended had tortured his brain for many a sleepless hour until he’d finally flung himself out of bed and started casting.</p><p>He’d be tempted to cast a few more....</p><p>...But not right now. </p><p>Right now, he was plastered face-down in the middle of his bedroom floor, too exhausted to move.</p><p><em> Stasis. </em> He <em> hated </em> stasis.</p><p>He groaned into the floorboards. It’s his own fault and he knows it. He could’ve paced himself better, or grabbed a few more ethers, maybe. But at least this section of the city could probably withstand most anything besides a direct Meteor spell for the next century or so.</p><p>He’d used up way too much magic, even the thought of summoning another ether from the armiger made him queasy. So, until he replenished his magic naturally, he was best friends with the floor.</p><p>Speaking of friends, there’s a knock at the door. “Hey uh, Noct, bud?”</p><p>Well <em> that’s </em> a quick shot of adrenaline. Noctis jolts up from his mess of papers, ink, and burnt-out candles, accidentally bumping into a couple floating grimoires and launching them into a chaotic spin through the air. He fights a wave of dizziness as Prompto continues, “You okay? You’ve been in there all day.”</p><p>“Uh-- Y-yeah,” he stumbles around, scrambling to shove his magic tomes and other casting tools under the bed in a haphazard mound, too tired to vanish them into the armiger. “Just a minute!” he calls. He catches a few floating scrolls and quills and tosses them into his laundry basket. Anything else he flings into the closet.</p><p>He knows the Glamour would probably cover for him, but he didn’t know what his books and whatnot would end up looking like. He didn’t want to take the chance they’d end up taking the appearance of some dirty magazines or, <em> Astrals forbid, </em> any of Gladio’s historical romance novels.</p><p>He drug himself to the door, head pounding as if a particularly determined gnome with a jackhammer had taken up residence. He glances back to make sure he’s hidden everything important, then opens the door.</p><p>“Dude! You look terrible!” The smile Prompto had greeted him with immediately dropping into a worried frown.</p><p>Noctis dredges up a weak laugh. “Thanks, I tried.”</p><p>“No, seriously, are you sick or…?” Prompto's hands are flitting worriedly over Noctis’ sagging form, unsure of what to do. Noctis just wants to lean into him. “Shit, should I call Ignis? He’s like, the mom-friend. He’d know what to do…” Prompto rambles, looking so worried he’s almost on the verge of panic.</p><p>“No, no.” Noctis quickly reassures. “I’m okay. Just super tired.” And he really doesn’t want Ignis over here to lecture him any sooner than he was already going to. </p><p>Prompto doesn’t look very convinced, but hooks an arm around Noctis’ shoulders to steer him to his bed. Noctis flops down onto it without resistance.</p><p>“You were okay yesterday…?” He wonders.</p><p>“...couldn’t sleep.” Noctis admits. And it was true. Any time he’d close his eyes he’d see hungry eyes, Prompto taken or hurt, the shadowy silhouettes of unknown enemies he couldn’t fight--</p><p>He’d woken in a cold sweat, Carbuncle having pulled him from his nightmares. The guardian of dreams trilling worriedly at him as he immediately launched himself up to pull tome after tome from the air to start his spellwork. And he hadn’t stopped since.</p><p>Prompto propped him up on a stack of pillows and threw a blanket over him. He’d never changed out of his pajamas from the night before, so at least he didn’t have to worry about that. Noctis sinks into the comfort of his bed, already starting to doze. He jumps a little when Prompto leans down to stick a hand on his forehead.</p><p>“Doesn’t feel like a fever… shit, you’ve been in here all day. Have you eaten? I can make soup. Probably. Want me to…?” He trails off, unsure.</p><p>What he really needed was an ether, but he couldn’t just ask Prompto to get one for him… or maybe he could?</p><p>“Could you grab one of my… smoothies... from the fridge for me?” He only knew that’s what they looked like with Glamour since Prompto had complained about them taking up half the fridge.</p><p>Prompto hops up, happy to help. “Sure thing! One of the bluish-green ones, or greenish-blue?”</p><p>“The one that looks like ulwaat berries gone wrong.”</p><p>While Prompto goes off to hopefully return with an ether and not one of Noctis’ other brews, Noctis tries to think of what he’d last been working on. There were the usual potions, ethers, one of Iggy’s regular bloodlust reducers, a couple blizzard vials, a werecat potion… so at worst he’d end up frozen or turned into a cat. Hm. He should really label those better.</p><p>Thankfully, Prompto returns with the right “smoothie.” Noctis downs it, feeling the magic fill his bones and breathe life back into his depleted reserves. He sighs in relief, sinking further into the pillows. With the dizzying nausea of stasis finally gone, exhaustion eagerly sweeps in to take its place, and he feels his eyelids steadily drooping.</p><p>He wonders, sleepily, if he’s dreaming of the warm fingers that run gently through his hair.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Messages</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Noctis senses Umbra’s arrival before he’s even fully awake, the messenger giving him a soft nudge in his mind. Though he’s tired enough it feels more like a cold wet nose to his brain, causing him to startle out of his cloudless dreams. He groans his complaints at the loss into his pillows, flopping over to fumble a hand through the mound of blankets in search of his phone to check the time. He finally cracks an eye open when he doesn’t find it in it’s usual spot, blearily looking about until he spots it.</p><p>His phone is set carefully on his bedside table. Next to it is a glass of water and a small clementine placed atop a granola bar. A bright yellow sticky note is stuck to the glass.</p><p>“<em>You were Noct-out! Feel better, my dude.</em>” It reads, followed by a cartoon doodle of a sleeping chocobo.</p><p>Noctis props himself up on his elbow, leaning over to pluck the note up. He smiles at it warmly, giving a quiet little snort at the pun. Ignis has clearly been teaching Prompto his ways.</p><p>He sets the note carefully aside and sits the rest of the way up. He makes quick work of the water, trying to sip it slowly at first to savor it then just downing it as he realizes how parched he actually is. The granola bar disappears next, followed by the clementine as he deems it sweet enough that it doesn’t count as a health food.</p><p>Feeling much more alive than he had ten minutes ago, he shuffles out of his room, still clad in the bright cactuar-print pajamas. Half the reason he wears them is because they make Ignis cringe every time he sees them, the other half of the reason being that they were a gift from Prompto. He only hopes that Umbra won’t tell Luna about them.</p><p>He makes his way to the front door to let in the messenger. Normally Noctis would just tell the door to open up with a flick of magic, but he knows Prompto is around here somewhere so he doesn’t want to risk it. </p><p>So he opens the door manually, fully expecting to find a dog impatiently waiting to barge past his legs and demanding to receive well-earned pettings.</p><p>Instead, he finds Prompto, buried face first in holy messenger. Prompto’s cooing excitedly, giving Umbra the best pats he’s probably ever received. Prompto’s camera is nearby, so Noctis assumes he’d started taking pictures up until he couldn’t resist the cuteness anymore, and left the device in favor of an impromptu cuddle session. Umbra, for his part, accepts all the loving with barely restrained glee. His tail has literally not stopped wagging the entire time.</p><p>“Guess you’ve met Umbra.” Noctis leans against the doorframe, a quirked half-smile cracking his face.</p><p>“Oh. My. Gods! Noct!” Prompto surfaces from the dog’s fluffy side. “Look at him! The best boy! The fluffiest, softest, nicest, best boy!” Umbra preens at the praise. It’s all true, after all. The only competition he has is his sister, Pryna, who isn’t here right now. It’s her loss, really.</p><p>Umbra turns and gives Prompto one of his patented Slime Kisses™, coating half of the blonde’s face in holy messenger saliva. Prompto splutters, hands raised to defend himself, but it doesn’t deter Umbra in the slightest. Prompto laughs, bright and happy. Noctis knows he’ll never get tired of the sound.</p><p>Noctis decides to save him from drowning and ushers them inside. It doesn’t last long, however, as Prompto makes the mistake of sitting down on the couch, only to immediately be smothered in dog.</p><p>He’s never seen Umbra react this happily to anyone so quickly, but he assumes that if anyone could cause it, it would be Prompto “Literal Sunshine” Argentum.</p><p>Noctis manages to pluck Luna’s notebook from Umbra’s harness without disrupting the cuddle pile. It’s been awhile since their last message, so he’d been looking forward to her response. Things have been pretty tense between the Faelands of Tenebrae and Niflheim for a while now, their exchanging of notes becoming one of Luna’s only reprieves. </p><p>He flips to the most recent entry. The previous page was filled with a photo of Prompto and him standing side-by-side. His own slanted handwriting scrawled at the top of the image reading, <em> “Made a friend.” </em></p><p>He’s halfway through reading her response when he realizes that Prompto shouldn’t be able to see Umbra at all.</p><p> </p><p>----</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Dearest Noctis, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It warms my heart to hear of your new friend. Should fate be kind, I would wish to meet him one day. In my experience, anything is possible when you have the right people there to support you.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Keep him safe. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Luna </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Short chapter, but very important DOGGO CUDDLES &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Theories</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Perhaps he’s part Fae?” Ignis considers. “It would explain his aversion to shoes.”</p><p>“I don’t think so… I mean, he kills every houseplant he looks at.” Noctis thinks mournfully to what used to be his herb garden. “Most Fae I know could accidentally grow a forest if they stub their toe.”</p><p>Ignis hums. “Well, he could do that last part,” he says, as Prompto literally trips in the door, hanging desperately to the coat rack as if it might save him from gravity. The resulting crash sends the wards buzzing. Noctis is already on his way over, leaning over Prompto with his hands propped on his knees to check him over. Yeah, there’s no way a guy this clumsy could be Fae.</p><p>“Stuck the landing!” Prompto chirps from his place on the floor.</p><p>“What part of that was sticking the landing?” Noctis asks, holding a hand out to help him up.</p><p>Prompto shrugs, taking his hand to stand. He rights the coat rack. “Eh, at least I landed <em> in </em> the apartment this time.”</p><p>“This time??”</p><p>Prompto waves him off with a grin, kicking off his boots and trotting into the kitchen.</p><p>“Igs, check it out!” He rifles around in his bag and pulls out a six pack of canned beverages. Ignis’ eyes flash unnaturally bright, latching on to them immediately.</p><p>“Is that…?” he says, voice low with wonder.</p><p>“The new Ebony <em> Alba, </em>Limited Edition minty goodness in a single addictive can!” He drops one into Ignis’ outstretched hand.</p><p>Ignis pops the tab with no hesitation, seeming to forget that he was in the middle of lunch preparations and dropping whatever utensils he’d been using. He pulls a notebook out of nowhere, pen already poised atop the paper. </p><p>He takes a delicate sip. </p><p>There’s no change in his expression, not even a twitch, but he pauses for a solid minute, unblinking, and then:</p><p>“My gods....”</p><p>Prompto whoops, spinning in place on his barstool like a victory lap.</p><p>“How did you even get these?” Noctis takes a can from the pack to inspect it, ignoring the territorial glare Ignis shoots his way. “This stuff isn’t supposed to hit the shelves for weeks yet.” He should know, Ignis had it marked on his calendar.</p><p>This wasn’t the first time Prompto had fed Ignis’ Ebony addiction, somehow procuring the most limited edition or no longer produced flavors. He’s not sure why he hadn’t thought to ask before. Noctis tries to sneak a sip out of Ignis’ open can while he’s distracted writing notes, only earning himself a swat to the back of his hand. Prompto snickers.</p><p>“Trade secret,” and he winks at him. Noctis has to physically brace himself against the counter to keep from swooning.</p><p>“Well, whatever it is,” Ignis says, ignoring Noctis’ heart palpitations, “so long as it is of no trouble or danger to you, you have my full support. Please don’t ever stop.” </p><p>Prompto snorts at how serious Ignis looks. “Hah, it’s not really a big deal or anything. I just get them from work.”</p><p>A beat of silence.</p><p>“Work?” Noctis repeats, baffled, and a little put off he’s never heard of this before.</p><p>“Uh, yeah dude. Gotta make a living and all that. You know, adult stuff,” Prompto says, spinning cheerily in circles on the barstool.</p><p>“Where do you work?” Ignis asks, because surely something like this would have appeared in the numerous background checks. He assumes Prompto must have started the job only recently. </p><p>“A little cafe down the way,” Prompto answers. He hops off the barstool to pose dramatically. “You’re looking at<em> the </em> best barista this side of 3rd street!” Prompto spins in place with a flourish, dipping into a short bow.</p><p>Ignis hums, calculating. Then he grips his can of Ebony tight. “I have no complaints.”</p><p>He makes a mental note to investigate it later. For Prompto’s protection and Noctis’ peace of mind of course, certainly not because of Ebony. Perish the thought. </p><p>“So that’s where you disappear to?” Noctis pouts a little. “I thought you were off working on your photography.” Noctis has lost count of how many charms and protective talismans he’s either hidden in Prompto’s stuff or outright handed him, so he wasn’t too worried, but still...</p><p>Prompto laughs, “Nah, not all the time. Just like, most of it.”</p><p>He digs around in his bag for his camera and snaps a photo of them in the kitchen. He looks down at the screen and smiles warmly at the image. Then he clicks back through a few recent pictures, Noctis is completely unsurprised to see the majority of them are other people's pets. </p><p>“I’m getting real close to documenting all the cutest animals in existence.”</p><p>Noctis doesn’t doubt that for a second. Prompto once spent five hours showing him every dog photo he’d ever taken up to that point. There were hundreds. Thousands, probably. He’d dreamt of being swarmed by cute dogs for weeks afterwards (not that he’s complaining, but Carbuncle got a little jealous).</p><p>“That reminds me! I’m going running with Gladio in a bit, wanna go?” He smiles at Noctis so brightly he almost caves. Then he remembers: exercise... actual physical activity…</p><p>“Pass,” and he turns, takes three steps to the couch and faceplants onto it.</p><p>“Aw, c’mon Noct! Exercise is good for ya!”</p><p>Whatever Noctis replies is lost to the couch cushions. Prompto snickers, then snaps a photo of him. “I’m titling this one <em> Sleeping Beauty </em>.” Noctis would have flipped him off if he wasn’t so flattered.</p><p>From across the kitchen counter, Ignis is eyeing him. “How so?” he asks Prompto.</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“How does taking photos of animals remind you of Gladio?” Ignis clarifies.</p><p>Prompto snorts, “You have met the guy, yeah? Dude is a <em> beast</em>.” </p><p>Ignis tries very hard not to choke on his Ebony. He prides himself as an analytical mind, has hundreds of years worth of experience deciphering other’s thoughts and motivations for all sorts of political and diplomatic situations in serving the Crown. Despite this, Prompto’s words baffle him. There are no tells to determine if his words are purposeful or not, no increased heart rate, no twitch to his facial expressions, no change in his posture... If Prompto somehow knows what he said was (at least partially) true, he’s a very, very good actor. But Prompto couldn’t even lie about eating Noctis’ last pudding cup yesterday, so from what he can sense and what he already knows of the human, what he said seems purely coincidental. He couldn’t tell a lie to save his life.</p><p>Ever since Noctis mentioned Prompto possibly having the Sight, Ignis has been trying to determine what he could possibly be. Noctis had already confirmed he didn’t sense anything overly magical, other than his oddly brilliant aura. Vampires couldn’t sense magic, but they were naturally drawn to humans, and Prompto’s blood sang to him just as sweetly as any other human. Gladio hasn’t commented on anything strange in his scent either. That didn’t leave too many options, short of just asking Prompto outright, any more speculation would require more research and observation.</p><p>“Gladio’s showing me all these great workout tips. Didn’t you say he was a physical trainer or something, Noct?”</p><p>The only response he gets is a light snore. Prompto moves to start stacking miscellaneous items on Noctis’ unresponsive form, likely to see if he can beat his record of either number of items stacked or the height of the tower.</p><p>“He is,” Ignis answers instead. “Has he been showing you anything for self defense?” He asks, because Noctis had all but ordered him to after the apartment had been attacked a few weeks ago.</p><p>“He mentioned it, yeah, but our schedules seem to clash a lot,” he replies, carefully stacking his fifth item. “No biggie. Insomnia isn’t <em> that </em> dangerous.”</p><p>Only Ignis’ natural vampiric poise keeps his poker face intact. The spot under his ribs where he’d been stabbed clean through twinges a little with phantom pain. He’s still upset about his suit.</p><p>“Be that as it may, there is no downside to knowing how best to defend yourself in an emergency. If Gladio is unavailable, I would be more than happy to offer some training in his stead.”</p><p>“Wow… Thanks Ignis.” Prompto looks a little surprised, awed even, and he gives Ignis a bright  smile. “That means a lot to me.” </p><p>Ignis tries very hard to ignore that his prince is currently being buried under a rather impressive three foot stack of random objects. He gives Prompto a rare smile.</p><p>“Always willing to help.”</p><p>There’s a knock at the door, followed by the sound of it opening.</p><p>“Hey Glads,” Prompto calls, not looking up from where he’s carefully trying to reinforce the base of the structure. His tongue sticks out in concentration.</p><p>Gladio enters the room, not batting an eye at Prompto’s tower or the prince snoring beneath it. He whistles low. “Damn, is that a new record?” </p><p>Prompto, satisfied with his work, steps back to take a picture. “Probably!” </p><p>Ignis sighs.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Question: wtf is this sunshine boi<br/>Answer: too precious for this world</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Confessions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Okay, so Noctis didn’t have the best frame of reference for what a normal human does on a daily basis. His version of “normal” was brewing questionable substances and reading ancient magical texts while warping around in a cloak of crystalline energy. But now that he was looking for it, there were a number of weird behaviors Prompto had that stood out to him as something a normal human wouldn’t do.</p><p>Probably.</p><p>Was it normal for a person to have the ability to befriend literally anyone they meet? Or to consume their body weight in homemade teas? Or willingly wake up at<em> 5am </em> to go for a run?</p><p>Noctis had<em> no idea</em>. </p><p>So he made a list.</p><p> </p><p>1. His... photography? (This one has been crossed out at least six times, only to be rewritten each time.)</p><p> </p><p>One of the first things anyone would notice about Prompto was his love for photography. He took photos everywhere and of anything, all the time; in the middle of conversations, during any kind of weather, any hour of the day or night.</p><p>It had actually put most of his supernatural neighbors on edge at first, almost all of them having an aversion to anything that might capture their true forms. Cameras were known to be a little finicky when it came to Glamours. But then he would smile at them and chatter away at how good it came out, showing them any image he took. It was reassuring to them that any photos taken were normal.</p><p>Despite seeing Prompto taking pictures all the time, Noctis hadn’t realized just how <em> many </em> Prompto had until he stepped into his room one afternoon sometime after he had finally finished unpacking.</p><p>Photos covered every bare inch of wallspace, some even leaking onto the ceiling and windows. There were totes full, all meticulously labeled and organized in a very Prompto manner (meaning nobody but him could actually find anything, but he could find it in under ten seconds). The totes were tucked away most of the time, leaving the area fairly neat and tidy.</p><p>The first time Ignis had seen the space, his face had spasmed, but then he complimented Prompto on his organizational skills and for still managing to be far tidier than Noctis. Which, <em> rude. </em> He wasn’t <em> that </em> bad (this is a lie).</p><p>The room was bright and comfortable, lit up with sunlight from the windows during the day and sparkling wired fairy lights at night. It was always warm and welcoming, just like it’s occupant, and quickly became a place Noctis found excuses to be in. Not that Prompto ever minded, always greeting him with a smile and offering a cup of tea, or to watch a movie from his extensive collection, or to just chat about anything on his mind.</p><p>He never noticed anything off about it until after Umbra’s visit, now aware that Prompto probably had the Sight.</p><p>He can’t remember what he went over to ask Prompto about. It was some odd hour of the night, which wasn’t unusual for their frequent chats. What was unusual was that Prompto’s door was shut tight. Prompto <em> never </em>had his door shut all the way.</p><p>Frowning, he knocked. The lack of response made him increasingly uneasy. </p><p>Tentatively, he cracked the door open. Pitch black darkness greeted him. Maybe Prompto was asleep? But even then, he always had at least his fairy lights on. He’d confided to Noctis once that he was terrified of dark spaces.</p><p>“Prom?” He spoke into the disturbingly still air. Everything about this put him on edge. He had to resist pulling magic into his palm to light the area.</p><p>He lingered in the doorway for a minute before stepping in. As his eyes adjusted, he looked around. There was no Prompto to be found, only his thousands of photos lining the walls.</p><p>A flick of movement made him twitch. His eyes snapped to it, heart picking up speed. He chastised himself for getting spooked over nothing, it was just a… photo?</p><p>He peered closer, stepping up to where the picture was pinned to the wall with a hundred others. It was an image of Umbra from his last visit, the messenger practically posing so Prompto got his “good” side (all sides were good sides). Behind Umbra the sun was just rising, highlighting his fluffy silhouette. Noctis smiled at the image.</p><p>The dog blinked.</p><p>Noctis reared back. What the <em> hell-- </em></p><p>The closet door creaked open. Noctis spun to face it, heart pounding, only to see haunting red light pour from the opening. From it stepped a dark silhouette, highlighted around the edges as if by a shroud of blood. The figure looks up, violet eyes seeming to glint in the night.</p><p>The figure pauses. Noctis tenses, already on edge from the weird photos, moving, watching him--</p><p>“Noct?” </p><p>The room light flicks on. Noctis chokes down a startled yelp, temporarily blinded.</p><p>Prompto’s stood there, looking confused. The room looked normal, welcoming and bright. No moving photos, no eerie red lights. Behind Prompto, his closet is filled not with clothes, but a tidy little table with basins and random bottles. A few strings are hung across the space, holding aloft white squares of paper.</p><p>“What’s up, bud? I’ve got some tea brewing if you want some,” he says, stepping around Noctis to get to the pot.</p><p>“You… have a darkroom.” He says, staring at the innocent closet space, now converted into a photographer’s dream. Noctis almost smacks himself for getting so worked up.</p><p>“Yeah! Took awhile to set up, but it turned out pretty great! Way cheaper than paying to have my pics developed at a shop.” He steps over, handing Noctis blueberry tea in mug that was probably the world’s worst representation of a moogle.</p><p>“...yeah,” he mumbles, shaking off the last feelings of creepiness.</p><p>“You’re being weird,” Prompto states, poking him on the cheek. “Something bugging you?”</p><p>“No, nothing...” Looking around blankly at the normal, unmoving, photographs filling the walls. He shakes his head. “Want to watch a movie?”</p><p> </p><p>2. Prompto being a lowkey mastermind.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe this was just Noctis being spiteful, but Prompto kicked ass at any sort of game he played. This ranged from video games, where he easily wiped Noctis’ hard-earned records off the boards, to more traditional card games. So long as the game wasn’t overly luck based, he had <em> no mercy </em>.</p><p>The first time they played cards together started out fun, but a round or two in it became a battle for survival.</p><p>“How?<em> How? </em> ” Noctis despairs, tossing his cards down after losing <em> again.  </em></p><p>Prompto drags in his haul of candies that they had used as poker chips, looking smug. “Look, it’s mostly math, right? Statistics or whatever.”</p><p>““<em>Statistics </em> ” doesn’t explain the <em> massacre </em> that just occured,” Noctis argues. His head thunks down onto the coffee table in defeat. Gladio pats his shoulder consolingly.</p><p>Even Ignis, the smartest guy he knows and a certified strategist, neatly folds his cards and replaces them in the deck, his polite and refined way of admitting his defeat. He looks, if anything, impressed. </p><p>“I say, Prompto, have you ever played chess?” Ignis asks, a thoughtful look growing on his face.</p><p>“What, like, fancy checkers?”</p><p>Noctis honks a laugh into the coffee table. Ignis looks downright offended, pressing his hands together under his chin and taking a deep breath, “No, like <em> chess</em>, a strategy-based board game that rewards skillful and analytical thinking, using different setpieces which--”</p><p>And he goes on for about five or so minutes on the intricacies and rules that make chess a unique and historical building block of the modern game world. Prompto does try to listen at first, but his eyes glaze over mid-rant. Noctis gives up altogether and starts building a house of cards with the ones he’d tossed earlier. </p><p>Prompto interjects when Ignis pauses for breath. “Sure, let’s play, but you’re gonna have to explain the rules,” he says, using his arm to clear a spot on the table. </p><p>“I... just did.”</p><p>Prompto blinks. “Oh.”</p><p>Ignis just sighs. “I’ll get the board.”</p><p>They set it up. Noctis gives up on his house of cards after it collapses for the fourth time, suspiciously well-timed to Gladio’s breaths. He looks over to see Ignis pointing out the chess pieces and demonstrating briefly how to move them about the board.</p><p>“We’ll start with a practice round, shall we?” And Ignis moves his first pawn to E4. After a moment, Prompto mirrors it. Ignis swiftly follows up in the next two moves to take Prompto’s pawn with his knight. Noctis raises an eyebrow at the “practice” game. Even when Ignis had tried to teach Noctis how to play, he’d let him have the first move and offer advice along the way. Maybe Ignis was more insulted than he thought...</p><p>But it didn’t even matter. Ten or so moves later, Ignis had lost three pawns and a knight, and was quietly scrambling to save the rest of his dwindling army. Noctis was startled at how <em> focused </em>Prompto was, it was almost uncanny how his violet eyes were latched onto the board. He didn’t even twitch when Noctis poked him a couple times.</p><p>The game lasted two <em> hours. </em> Gladio popped in a movie when it became apparent this thing was going to take a while. Noctis hadn’t even realized he’d dozed off until Gladio was shaking him awake. He blinked confusedly at the credits rolling on the TV, then turned to glare at the werewolf who woke him. Gladio ignored him, gesturing instead to the game that was apparently still going.</p><p>He looked over just in time to witness Prompto check Ignis’ king with a<em> pawn, </em> of all things. </p><p>Ignis stared at the pawn. It stared back, but neither it nor his king told him how to win this game.</p><p>“Checkmate…” Noctis breathes, disbelieving. Prompto beat Ignis at chess <em> what the hell-- </em></p><p>Prompto blinks. A tension Noctis hadn’t even realized had formed, suddenly snaps, leaving only shocked silence. Prompto doesn’t seem to notice their stares and stands to stretch, popping his back in satisfaction, then grimaces.</p><p>“Geez, Iggy! Warn a guy when it’s a long kinda game!” He gripes, and makes a beeline for the bathroom. “I had three cups of tea earlier!”</p><p>Ignis didn’t bother correcting him that a casual chess game usually only lasted about thirty minutes. He plucks up his fallen king and stares at the piece, thoughtful.</p><p>“So, uh. Some practice game,” Noctis hedges, not sure how to console a guy who probably hasn’t lost a game of chess in several decades.</p><p>Ignis hums, looking from the chess piece in his hand to where Prompto had disappeared down the hall.</p><p>“Quite.”</p><p> </p><p>3. His choice of “literature”</p><p> </p><p>Gladio’s taking up half the couch, relaxing into a new book he’d picked up just today. Sunlight streams in through the open windows and fills the room with warm ambient light. The window is open slightly, letting in the distant sounds of the city and ruffling the curtains with the slight breeze. It’s calm, peaceful. Noctis stirs his latest brew quietly. </p><p>“<em>Forsooth! </em>” Prompto yells, and Noctis startles so badly he flings his spoon across the room. </p><p>“What dost thou been up to, dear William?” Gladio replies easily. He says it so confidently Noctis has a moment of confused dread that he got Prompto’s name <em> that </em>wrong.</p><p>“Roseanne, dearest angel. I want not but you this night. Prithee, let us away!” Prompto declares, entering the room wielding what Noctis realises with dawning horror is one of Gladio’s historical bodice rippers.</p><p>“Alas, dear William, I cannot! For my heart yet yearns for another,” Gladio replies, and hearing him speak this in his low baritone almost makes Noctis throw up.</p><p>“Betrayal, my heart!” Prompto cries.</p><p>“What is happening,” Noctis whispers, horrified.</p><p>It didn’t get any better. A week or so later, Gladio and Prompto got into a heated debate over what might happen in the next (horrible) book in the series they were reading. Noctis is fluent in seven different magical or lost languages, but could not figure out what the hell was going on. Iris and Ignis were also over, providing Noctis with an anchor to reality in these trying times. Or so he thought.</p><p>“I’m telling you, man. Rosaline and Roseanne are two different people!” Prompto says, glaring. His intimidation factor is greatly decreased by the fact that he’s seated upside down, legs thrown up over the back of the couch.</p><p>Gladio is undeterred. “No way. It’s a cover, William found her wearing the same corset.” </p><p>“That doesn’t mean anything! Rosaline had the ring, remember?”</p><p>Noctis looks to Iris and Ignis for mercy. </p><p>Instead, Iris betrays him. “But Gladdy, Roseanne was all “Partake thee, my beloved, for only we shall be wed!””</p><p>“<em>Thank </em> you, Iris!” Prompto nods, as if any of this makes sense. “You’re my new favorite Amicitia.”</p><p>Ignis, his last bastion of hope, just sighs. “It’s not even grammatically correct,” he mutters.</p><p>Noctis wants to cry.</p><p> </p><p>(Okay, so maybe adding Prompto’s terrible taste in literature to the list was a little biased. He left it on there, if only because of the sheer amount of trauma he went through because of it.)</p><p> </p><p>----</p><p> </p><p>He looks over his list, frowning. Was this stuff really that odd, or was it just Prompto being Prompto?</p><p>Noctis knows there’s something different about him, he can sense it. For one thing, Prompto could See messengers, which was the whole reason he’d started the damn list in the first place. Normal humans simply couldn’t do that, at least not naturally. There were a few exceptions, all of which included dreams or near-death experiences, and <em> thankfully </em> none of those applied.</p><p>He’s also never seen such a bright golden aura on a human; Prompto practically lit up the room whenever he was smiling or laughing. By the same regard, his aura would dim to nothing if he was ever stressed or upset. The first time his aura had winked out like that had almost thrown Noctis into a panic. He ended up busting into Prompto’s room, only to find him crying over a chocobo documentary and consoling him for a half an hour.</p><p>Besides the weird photos and Prompto being a secret gaming mastermind, the rest of his list are just shameless variations of “how the hell can a guy this cute and nice exist” or “this boy is literal sunshine help me.”</p><p>Noctis groans in frustration, crumpling up the list and shoving it in his pocket. He’s tired of treating everything as suspect, tired of feeling like he has to analyze everything Prompto does. He just wants an answer.</p><p>He steps out of his room, determined to find Prompto and just ask him outright. He doesn’t find Prompto in the apartment anywhere, but instead on the apartment roof taking pictures of the city skyline. </p><p>The city’s skyscrapers were dark pillars of a thousand glittering lights shining in the early evening skies. Far above it all, the Wall glimmers lightly, tinting the stars and the already purple clouds a deep navy blue. He wonders if Prompto can See it.</p><p>“Hey,” Noctis greets.</p><p>“Heya,” Prompto smiles at him, but he seems nervous.</p><p>“I, uh. Got a question for you.” Noctis says, not sure how to start. He walks up next to Prompto and leans against the roof’s railing. </p><p>“Me too…” Prompto replies, “I’ve... got a bit of a confession to make.”</p><p>But neither of them say anything. Noctis fiddles with the crumpled up note in his pocket, trying to build up the courage to ask. Prompto is chewing his lip, not meeting his eye. The air is filled with uncertain tension to the point of bursting. Then Noctis just decides, screw it, and takes a deep breath.</p><p>“Are you a--” he blurts, just as Prompto squeezes his eyes shut and exclaims, “I like you!”</p><p>“Wait, what?” They both ask at the same time.</p><p>Prompto recovers first, Noctis too stunned to do more than stare. The blonde fumbles for the right words, “I uh. I’ve wanted to tell you for a while now, but it never seemed like the right time, and I didn’t know if you liked me back, and things have seemed a little off lately, but I--”</p><p>Prompto cuts himself off mid-ramble to take a deep breath and settle himself. He finally raises his bright blue-violet eyes to meet Noctis’ gaze. “I like you. Like, like-like you. A lot.” </p><p>“And I was wondering if you’d,” and his voice is getting quieter by the second, “go out with me?”</p><p>Noctis went into shock a while ago, his brain supplying nothing but <em> Prompto likes me </em> on repeat. His heart is thudding so fast it’s ready to crack through his ribs. Noctis opens his mouth to reply, but no words make their way out. The quiet goes on too long, and Prompto shrinks more and more into himself.</p><p>“Nevermind,” Prompto squeaks out, face red with embarrassment. “Forget I said anything. I’ll just, um, go.” and he bolts for the exit.</p><p>Noctis snaps out of his stupor, spinning around so fast he almost warps and catches Prompto by the hand. Prompto looks back, uncertain.</p><p>Noctis has never been good with words, nor could he think of any to summarize how he felt at this moment. Instead of trying to vocalize some half formed thoughts, he pulls Prompto close. </p><p>He leans in, and brushes a kiss to Prompto’s lips.</p><p>It’s short but sweet, and everything Noctis had been daydreaming about for months. A burst of sunshine lights up the night as Prompto smiles and folds into him, wrapping his arms around Noctis in a warm embrace.</p><p>“Goes without saying, but I like-like you, too.” Noctis says, finally. Prompto laughs, breathless and relieved. </p><p>And they stay like that for a long while, together in a moment only witnessed by the stars.</p><p> </p><p>----</p><p> </p><p>“What were you gonna ask earlier?”</p><p>He thinks of the list crumpled in his pocket, how all those things listed were just… Prompto being Prompto. Sure, there’s something magical about him, but it didn't make a difference in who he is. Besides, Prompto had accepted Noctis and his own weirdness from the start, it was hypocritical to judge him.</p><p>He shakes his head and smiles at Prompto, holding him tighter. </p><p>“Doesn’t matter.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>&lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. And a Warm Cup of Comfort</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>~This is an intermission chapter that takes place outside the main story~</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>Noctis hates the cold. It made him ache, and sneeze, and there was only so much his potions could do to help. Especially since Insomnia's weather usually varied from hot to hotter, except for these few choice months when Shiva decided to dump a glacier on top of it.</p><p>So he sat and shivered, wrapped in a charm-warmed blanket and glared at the snow falling outside the window. He would begrudgingly admit the layer of white covering the city made it look exceedingly beautiful, enchanting even. But in his opinion, Insomnia looked just as nice without it, thank you very much.</p><p>Prompto busted in, laughing his way into the room with a smile splitting his rosey cold cheeks. His camera is hanging from a weatherproof strap around his neck, so it's safe to assume he'd been out taking pictures of the snow-covered city. He's covered in a thin dusting of fluffy snow, and has somehow procured a red santa hat.</p><p>"Oh, Noct~" Prompto smiles innocently, and he moves to stick his icey hands down Noct's shirt to warm them.</p><p>Noctis yelps. "No! No, no no," and dances out of reach.</p><p>Prompto laughs, briefly giving chase before moving instead to the kitchen to fix a cup of tea. Noctis settles back on the couch to continue his glaring match with the weather.</p><p>He jumps a little when a mug of hot chocolate appears in his line of vision. He takes it with a smile, the first one he's cracked today.</p><p>"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Prompto says, staring as the snow falls outside. He sits down beside Noctis, holding his own warm cup of tea.</p><p>Noctis looks from the snow, to Prompto, and smiles. The season wasn't all bad he supposed, made all the better by who he got to spend it with.</p><p>He leans over and pecks a kiss to Prompto's still chilly cheek.</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy holidays from me to you! Even if you don't celebrate, at least take this for what it is: a thank you! The community and fics here on ao3 have helped me get through a lot of stress and inspired me to get back into writing. So, cheers! </p><p>I had a lot of fun drawing this, something about Prompto's endless cheer and optimism always makes me smile. It is also absolutely in my headcannon for this AU that Noctis has 60+ witch hats secretly stashed in the Armiger.</p><p>This is on a brief hiatus while I finish up another fic, so to fill your FFXV witchy needs in the meantime, please enjoy these recommendations!</p><p>  <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/21552124">Tabernam Mea</a><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/12280818">How To Get Yourself A Boyfriend</a><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/21183539">your heart is the only place i call home</a><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/11405118">Prompto's Home for Zombie Pets</a><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/14846135">Destiny Divined</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. My Dearest Ebony</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I suppose congratulations are in order,” Ignis says wryly, looking pointedly to where Prompto was drooling on Noctis’ shirt.</p>
<p>Noctis ignores both his adviser and the blush burning his own cheeks. Prompto and him had been watching a movie, wedged together on the couch. Prompto was half smushed into Noct’s side, half falling through the crack of the cushions. The movie had ended a while ago, but Prompto had fallen asleep at some point and Noctis refused to move and wake him.</p>
<p>“I hate to inform you, but he has to go to work fairly soon,” Ignis says.</p>
<p>“You would remember that,” Noct teases, knowing full well Ignis was banking on Prompto bringing back the new flavor of Ebony that just came out.</p>
<p>“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re on about,” he lies through his fangs.</p>
<p>Prompto’s alarm, an<em> impressively loud</em> chocobo theme song, suddenly blares, and Noctis flinches so badly he falls off the couch. He absolutely does <em>not</em> yelp aloud. Ignis, some bodyguard he is, doesn’t even look over at the thud.</p>
<p>Prompto seems to grumble more at his sudden lack of human pillow than the blaring alarm. He paws at his back pocket for his phone to mute it, then cracks an eye open to check the time. He blinks when he spots Noctis chilling on the floor.</p>
<p>“Comfy?” he asks, like he wasn’t the reason Noctis was down there.</p>
<p>“I had a sudden change in perspective.” Quite literally, Noctis muses.</p>
<p>“Yeah?” Prompto leans over the edge of the couch with a smile, filling Noctis’ vision with freckles and sleep-mussed golden locks. “See anything you like?”</p>
<p>Noctis hums, leaning up to brush a kiss to the tip of Prompto’s nose. He watches the constellations of his freckles warm with a blush, and smiles softly. “You could say that.”</p>
<p>His vision fills with golden light as Prompto smiles, leaning down to return the kiss with one of his own. Noctis presses into it, propping himself up on an elbow and bringing a hand up to cup Prompto’s cheek. The kiss is soft and sleepy and warm--</p>
<p>Ignis clears his throat.</p>
<p>Oh. Right. Ignis was here.</p>
<p>Prompto squeaks, jolting up. “Dude! How long have you been there!”</p>
<p>“The entire time, I’m afraid.” He smiles wryly, “and I hate to interrupt, but you have work in twenty minutes.”</p>
<p>“Oh, <em>Six</em>,” Prompto swears, flinging himself into motion. He’s down the hall in half a heartbeat, tearing through his room to get ready in time.</p>
<p>Noct stays where he is, mainly because he hasn’t figured out how to restart his brain yet, but he does manage a glare for his advisor. “Killjoy,” he mutters, annoyed, under his breath.</p>
<p>Ignis is unfazed. “And you,” he says, pointing a pen at him, which shouldn’t be as threatening as it actually is, “have forty-two pages of reports to review before this evening.”</p>
<p>Noctis groans as if skewered, slumping back onto the carpet.</p>
<p>Prompto bounds back into view, narrowly dodging Ignis as he dives past him to the fridge to scrounge for food.</p>
<p>“Ah, Prompto,” Ignis stops him, “I took the liberty of preparing lunches for today. It’s a simple dish, but should suffice.” As if anything Ignis made was simple. Noctis squints at him, his bribery not going unnoticed.</p>
<p>But Prompto just sags, relieved. “Igs, you’re the literal best.”</p>
<p>“I am what I am,” Ignis replies, not even trying for humble.</p>
<p>“Why don’t you come with me?” Prompto offers. “I’ll brew you up some Ebony! My treat!”</p>
<p>And it’s not like Ignis could say no to that.</p>
<p>“If you insist,” Ignis replies. But he’d already been packing up before Prompto could even finish his sentence. He’d been meaning to check into Prompto’s place of work anyway, he tells himself.</p>
<p>“Noct?” Prompto asks.</p>
<p>“I’m…” he says, staring up at the literal mountain of paper set before him, “buried.” He sighs. The hell had the Fae been up to<em> this</em> time. Though if they knew how much paperwork it caused him, they’d probably do it more. “But I’ll see you tonight.”</p>
<p>“Yeah! And hey, I’ll bring you that weird bubble matcha thing you like!”</p>
<p>“My hero,” he says, still not moving from the floor.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>----</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They head out, Prompto taking the lead with a skip in his step. He chatters on about coffee, and being one of Ignis’ favorite topics, the vampire easily joins in.</p>
<p>It’s a beautiful day in Insomnia for a walk, which Ignis is ever grateful for the multitude of charms Noctis gifted him so he could properly enjoy it. Sunlight didn’t cause the overly dramatic ‘burned to ashes’ shtick from Prompto’s beloved D-rated horror movies, but any vampire would still get some serious burns from its rays. Ignis was no exception, and he’d rather not show up as a lobster for any of his meetings at the Citadel.</p>
<p>“We’re heeere~” Prompto sing-songs, holding the door open him with a flourish. Ignis gives him a bemused nod, then steps in to what might be the cutest little coffee shop he’s ever seen.</p>
<p>Everything about it was warm and comfortable. It wasn’t overly crowded, which was something Ignis tried to avoid, instead having a half a dozen small tables dotting a cozy seating area. One wall was filled with books to browse, the opposite wall filled with rows of specialty coffee beans, teas, and matcha. The air was filled with soft and inoffensive lofi music, as well as the smell of his beloved coffee.</p>
<p>It was a dream come true. How Ignis had never discovered this place was almost a crime in his own mind.</p>
<p>And then Prompto brewed him up the Ebony he promised him, a specialty blend, and Ignis knew he’d never view coffee the same way again.</p>
<p>It was <em>amazing.</em></p>
<p>Prompto’s custom brews added a fresh take on his most beloved drink, and he always seemed to know what flavors Ignis would like best. Even the strangest combinations Ignis himself would never have tried on his own time, were spectacular.</p>
<p>Needless to say, Ignis quickly becomes a regular, sometimes visiting the shop multiple times a day.</p>
<p>“Igs,” Prompto laughs, on his third visit one day, “As much as I love seeing you, dude, please don’t blow your life savings on coffee.”</p>
<p>“A worthy investment,” he replies, shameless. He takes a sip and sighs contentedly.</p>
<p>Though vampires had no real need to consume anything other than blood, the culinary arts had always been one of Ignis’ passions. That, he found, extended to his beloved Ebony. (He remembers the day it was invented fondly).</p>
<p>So, a couple months after the discovery of his new favorite coffee shop, he’s pleasantly surprised when Prompto hands him a recipe book alongside his usual cup of Ebony.</p>
<p>“Happy birthday!” he cheers, the smile splitting his face was brighter than the sun.</p>
<p>He never remembered ever telling Prompto his birthday, but assumes Noctis must have mentioned it to him. He takes the offered gift, “Thank you, Prompto. You didn’t have to get me anything.”</p>
<p>“No worries, dude! Besides, I think you’ll really like it!”</p>
<p>The book isn’t wrapped, but instead tied closed with a simple ribbon. Ignis gently tugs it loose and opens the book.</p>
<p>Inside is a handwritten catalog of all the custom blends he’d come to love from all his coffee shop visits, carefully categorized by flavor and preference. Each recipe had a corresponding photo that Prompto no doubt took himself. There were at least twenty recipes included, and room still in the back for more.</p>
<p>“Prompto, this is wonderful,” he says, honestly touched.</p>
<p>“Aw, it’s nothin’,” Prompto replies, a bit embarrassed. “Although, I am worried I just sent away our best customer. Try to stop by every now and then, yeah?”</p>
<p>Ignis huffs an amused laugh. “Most certainly.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>---</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Later that evening, while Noctis and Prompto were smushed together on the couch, the unmistakable sound and scent of coffee brewery reach them.</p>
<p>“You realize the apartment’s gonna forever smell like Ebony after this,” Noctis states. His voice rumbles against Prompto’s ear where he has his head resting on Noctis’ chest. They’d been cuddled together for the past hour, but the vampire that was commandeering their kitchen had yet to acknowledge their presence.</p>
<p>“Still better than whateverthefuck you made last night.”</p>
<p>Okay… yeah. That’s fair. That potion did NOT turn out right.</p>
<p>“Touché.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ignis just wishes every AU was a Coffee Shop AU</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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